For I Have Sinned
by princess.of.forever
Summary: "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned."   Blaine comes from a religious family. He doesn't question anything, until Kurt arrives.
1. Chapter 1

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned." Blaine sat still, his hands in his lap. He hated this little room, hot and stuffy. He hated having to sit there, ticking off the things he had done wrong. It made him sick to his stomach.

"It's a good thing you're doing," the pastor said, his voice low and soothing. That was the one thing Blaine did like about confession. "Confessing your sins." There was a short pause. "How long has it been since your last confession?"

"It has been a month since my last confession, Father."

The pastor made a sound, acknowledging what Blaine had said. The silence returned. Blaine knew it was his turn again, but he really hated this part.

"I…" he started, trying to think of what to tell this man. There had been several things he probably shouldn't have done.

"I've been…" he knew what he should say. But he was scared. Too scared. He didn't want to admit it, not to himself, let alone someone else.

"I looked at a boy the other day." There, he'd said it. "I looked at him the way I am supposed to look at girls."

The pastor remained silent for a while.

"Blaine," his finally said, his voice soft. "Thank you for telling me. You are a good boy. The Lord forgives you."

Blaine sighed, relieved, and stood up, turning to go. He was just about to leave when the pastor called after him.

"Blaine, who was the boy?"

Blaine froze for a minute. Then turned to face the man. "No one, father. Just a boy."

* * *

><p>Blaine went into shock. It was a body-numbing, hazy-feeling, sort of shock. He couldn't believe he'd actually told someone. For a long time, such a long time, the secret had been eating him alive. He hadn't told anyone. Not his best friends, not a teacher or guidance councilor, and certainly not his parents.<p>

He'd told himself once. It was after he caught himself staring a little too long at a boy in his history class. Blaine stood in front of his mirror that night studying himself. His eyes, his skin, his mouth, the little freckle on his neck. It was all the same. Nothing had changed physically. But there was something different, yet he wasn't sure what.

"Maybe," he whispered to his reflection. "Maybe I…" his nerves went haywire and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick.

"Maybe I like boys."

As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Why had he said that? He sighed and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands; the cold marble of the countertop pressing against his clammy skin.

* * *

><p>Monday came. Blaine found himself sitting in history class, staring at that stupid boy again. The New Kid, was how people new him at school. Blaine hadn't really had an opportunity to talk to him yet.<p>

The bell rang, and it was just as the teacher was wiping down the board that Blaine realized he hadn't copied down the homework. Frustrated, Blaine slammed his book shut and began shoveling everything back into his bag. He really needed to stop…stop _caring_ about that boy.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me?" Blaine whirled around to see a boy, <em>the<em> boy, standing in front of him.

"Hi, sorry to bother you…" he sounded nervous. "I, um, I'm Kurt. Are you Blaine Anderson?"

Blaine nodded.

"Right. Um, you're name was on the list for student tutors. I really need help in French…" his voice trailed off.

"Oh," Blaine recovered quickly. "Yes, of course. I'm free at lunch, or after school on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays."

"Thursday after school would work. How does four o'clock sound?"

* * *

><p>"Tu es belle. Très belle. Comme un lever de soleil. La beauté constante. Au jour le jour."<p>

Blaine smiled and set the book down.

"So you write French poetry?" He asked. Kurt nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

"It's a little cliche, I know. But she said to write anything just as long as we used our vocabulary words."

"Well you have 'sunrise' and 'continuous'. What else is on the list?"

Kurt slid the piece of paper towards Blaine.

"You still need to use 'endless'."

Kurt bit his lip and tilted his head a little bit. Unwillingly. Blaine blushed. He'd noticed Kurt do that before, the whole head-tilt thing. He did it whenever he was concentrating, like during lectures or quizzes.

"Our world…" Kurt mumbled to himself, jotting down some words on the page. "Notre…" he stopped for a moment, glaring at the page. "Shoot."

"Monde." Blaine said smiling.

"Monde. Notre monde…est sans fin."

Kurt pushed the paper back towards Blaine, his cheeks red.

"I don't know…is that right?"

Blaine smiled. "Are you trying to say 'our world is endless'?"

Kurt blushed even darker and nodded.

"You got it then."

* * *

><p>Blaine did his best not to think about Kurt except for when he saw him in class, after school, and occasionally in the hallways. He knew what he was supposed to do, what his parents expected of him. He was supposed to finish high school, go off to a big-name college, get a degree in law, or maybe poly-sci. Then, he was supposed to meet a nice girl, a girl who goes to church. He is supposed to marry her and have children, and grow old.<p>

There's something about Kurt though. He's not like the other boys at Dalton. He's not like any of the other boys anywhere.

* * *

><p>A week later, Kurt comes rushing over to Blaine in between class periods, waving a piece of paper in his face.<p>

"You are _amazing_!"

Blaine laughs, trying to figure out why Kurt's so happy. Finally, Kurt settles down and hands him the sheet of paper.

"Kurt!" Blaine's face splits into a grin. "97%, nice job!"

Kurt smiles and sighs, looking straight into Blaine's eyes. Blaine can feel his face warming. _It's just because I hate it when people look at me_, Blaine tells himself. _It's just because I'm shy_.

"I want to thank you somehow," Kurt says. "What do you charge?"

Blaine shook his head. "No, don't worry about it. I get community service hours. It's all good."

Kurt held his ground. "I'm serious. I want to give you something. Can I take you out for dinner or something?"

Blaine froze.

"Um. I…"

"Come on, I'll take you anywhere you'd like."

"I really shouldn't." Blaine said, apologetically. "I'll see you in history."

He left Kurt standing there, wearing a slightly hurt, slightly confused expression on his face. Blaine felt something in his chest. It was like having the wind knocked out of you. It hurt. Physically hurt.

What was wrong, anyways? He had guy friends, plenty of them. They would hang out all the time, go to a movie theater, get dinner, no big deal. So why did he flip out when Kurt asked him?

Blaine kept walking, refusing to look back. He know that Kurt was still standing there, but he was afraid to look. Instead of going to math, he ducked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, his neck, his hands. He couldn't handle functions and logs, not today.


	2. Chapter 2

FOR I HAVE SINNED - CHAPTER 2

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Blaine said. His hands were clasped together as he nervously rocked back and forth.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" The priest asked. Blaine sighed. "A month, Father."

"Well then, confess to me and let yourself be forgiven."

Blaine knew what he wanted to say. He knew what he _needed_ to say. It had been building up for the past two days, sitting inside his stomach, weighing him down. But the problem was, he didn't even know what happened. He wasn't sure how he got into this. Honestly, he was still trying to figure it out himself.

* * *

><p><em>It had all started because Kurt showed up in history the next day looking like a broken angel. When he caught Blaine's eye at one point, he quickly looked away. Blaine sat there for the entire hour, feeling more and more like a jerk. <em>

_ Why had he snapped? What made him so angry? He had no right to get angry like that. It wasn't Kurt's fault that Blaine might…well, it wasn't his fault. After the bell rang, Blaine hurried to catch up with a quick-moving Kurt. _

_ Somehow they ended up in Blaine's car a few days later. It had something to do with the fact that it was raining and Kurt's dad was running late. Blaine had stayed for soccer practice, and Kurt had been in the library. No one was in the parking lot except the two of them. _

_ Outside the car, the rain was coming down hard. It was dark, but the streetlights illuminated their faces, casting weird yellow-orange glows to their cheeks. The rain made a nice sound as it bounced off the cement and slapped against the windows. Blaine had the heater turned up, trying to dry off and warm up. Kurt was shivering slightly. _

_ They made small talk about the weather, the basketball season, how Kurt was liking Dalton. Eventually, they ran out of things to say and lapsed into silence. Kurt eventually looked over at Blaine. _

_ "Thank you," he said quietly. "For…you know, being nice to me and everything. I don't really have many friends yet, but you've been really sweet to me. So, thank you." _

_ Blaine could feel his face flushing. _

_ "It's nothing. Anyways, you're fun to talk to." _

_ Kurt gave a small smile, and then all of a sudden Blaine couldn't help himself. He couldn't just sit there any longer. It was slow and quick at the same time. Everything went kind of fuzzy. He leaned over, and like two magnets being sucked together, Kurt began to do the same. _

_ The only sound was their heartbeats, beating fast against their chests. Blaine's lips touched Kurt's and he didn't recall a time where he'd felt so whole. It wasn't more than a peck on the lips, but it was enough for Blaine's heart to stop. _

_ After less than a second, he slammed his hands against Kurt's chest. Kurt let out a gasp, of surprise, of hurt, of some combination of the two. Blaine refused to look at Kurt. Suddenly he felt sick, disgusted with himself. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hands, trying to get rid of the feeling of Kurt's lips. _

_ "No," he moaned. "Please, no." He could feel himself starting to panic. It was building up, becoming stronger. It was like acid burning his skin. He felt like he was going to break. Any second now. _

_ Kurt just sat there, dazed. He watched as Blaine began to hyperventilate, slowly becoming worried. _

_ "Blaine…Blaine, I'm sorry. It's okay. Just calm down. I'm sorry," he reached out, trying to get Blaine's attention. "Please, just calm down." _

_ Blaine stared at his hands, shaking his head back and forth. _

_ "No, no…" he moaned. "I…I don't…I can't…" _

_ "Blaine, just take a deep breath. It's going to be okay," Kurt stroked Blaine's back, trying to calm him down. Blaine leaned forward, resting his head on the steering wheel. He hated himself for this. He hated himself for enjoying kissing a boy. He hated himself for thinking Kurt was cute, and for loving the feeling of him touching his back. _

_ They sat there for nearly half an hour, Kurt rubbing circles on Blaine's back, trying to calm him down. _

_ "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," he whispered. _

* * *

><p><em> They didn't speak for a week. They avoided each other in the hallways, and refused to look at each other in class. For Blaine, this was all a horrible nightmare. It was wrong, was what it was. To his church, to his family, to him. It was all so wrong. <em>

_ He tried to push any thoughts he had of Kurt as far away as possible. He tried not to think about how good Kurt looked in light blue, how it brought out the color of his eyes. He tried not to think about the way Kurt bit his lower lip when he was thinking. He tried not to think about how adorably classic Kurt looked walking out of school, clutching his books in one hand, holding a coffee in the other. _

_ Each night, Blaine retrieved his bible from his night stand. He flipped to Leviticus and reread the passage over and over. _

_ "If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; let them be put to death." _

_ He read the passage out loud, his voice barely a whisper. He read it again, and again, and again. Then, he'd fall to his knees rest his head on the tips of his clasped hands. _

_ "Forgive me, Father. Forgive me, please." _

* * *

><p><em> Something happened a week later. The day was gloomy, and the bell had rung, signaling the end of school. Blaine grabbed his stuff and was heading out when he saw Kurt standing by his car. <em>

_ Blaine's stomach did a flip-flop, and he momentarily contemplated just going to the library. Instead, he took a deep breath and marched over to his car. Kurt saw him walked slowly up to meet him. _

_ "Blaine," Kurt said softly. "I…I just thought maybe we should talk?" _

_ Blaine opened his mouth to say no, to say it had been a mistake, and that he just wanted Kurt to leave him alone. But there was something that needed to be said, questions that needed to be asked. _

_ "Want to go for a drive?" He asked, finally looking up at Kurt. _

* * *

><p><em> They drove down back roads, places where cars never came. Blaine pulled over and stopped the car. He had things he wanted to say, things that had been building up for a while now. But he was scared. <em>

_ "I'm gay," Kurt broke the silence. "I'm not sure if you are, and really it's none of my business, but I just wanted to apologize for…for kissing you. And for putting you in an uncomfortable situation. I'm really, really sorry." _

_ Blaine didn't say anything for a while. Finally, he raised his eyes so that he could look at Kurt. _

_ "Do you believe in God?" He asked. _

_ Kurt thought about this for a moment. "I…I believe that there are things greater than us, greater than people. But I'm not religious." _

_ "But kissing you…kissing a boy, that was wrong." Blaine shook his head, frustrated. "I…I'm _wrong_, Kurt. There's something wrong with me." _

_ "No there isn't," Kurt's voice was sharp. He paused for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer. "Blaine, there's nothing wrong with you." _

_ "But…but I _liked_ it. I liked kissing you." _

_ This made Kurt smile, ever so slightly. "I liked it, too." _

_ "What does that mean?" Blaine's face looked imploringly at Kurt. "If I like kissing you? Does that make me…" he couldn't say it. _

_ Kurt rested his hand on Blaine's shoulder. _

_ "I don't know, Blaine. It doesn't mean anything for sure. Would…would you want to talk to your parents about this?" _

_ Blaine's head shot up and he shook it back and forth vigorously. _

_ "No, Kurt, please don't tell anyone. Please. My…my parents…" he stopped for a moment, reached behind him and grabbed his backpack. He unzipped it, found the right page, and handed it over to Kurt. _

_ He watched as Kurt read it in silence. When he finished, Kurt looked up at Blaine with a worried look on his face. _

_ "Blaine…it's not, it's not wrong. It's not. What's so wrong with love? With loving someone, regardless of whether it's a man or a woman. It's still love, right?" _

_ Blaine felt his eyes sting, and a second later, a teardrop landed on his jeans. "I don't know, anymore. I used to think it was wrong. My parents think it's wrong. But now…now I don't know." _


	3. Chapter 3

"Thank you, Blaine," the priest said quietly. "The Lord forgives you."

Blaine sighed and stood up. He hadn't been able to do it. The words had been building up inside of him, desperate to tumble out, but he was too scared. Instead he told the priest about yelling at his little sister and lying to his mother about cleaning his room. He turned to go, eager to get out of the small, claustrophobic room.

* * *

><p>"Blaine?" He turned around to see Quinn sitting on the bench across the hall. She was the only other one who came to confession on a regular basis. He forced a smile and shoved his hands in his pockets as she got up to greet him, suddenly feeling self-conscious.<p>

"You look nice," she reached out to touch the sleeve of his jacket. "Very handsome," she murmured. "Remember when we were little and we used to play house together?" Blaine felt a genuine smile creep up on his face.

"Yeah," he said. "You used to wear your mom's make up. Remember the time we ran out of crayons and decided to use your mom's lipstick instead?"

Quinn laughed as her hands moved to Blaine's tie, wrapping it around her finger. "Yes. She wasn't so happy with us." Quinn looked up at Blaine. She had very pretty eyes, such a lovely shade of green.

"I should get in there. I'll see you at around?" She flashed him one last smile before heading towards the door.

Blaine stood there for a moment. His heart was beating fast; his mind trying to process what just happened. Quinn was beautiful. He liked the way she smiled at him, the way she laughed, the way she dressed. She never wore those tight shirts or super-short skirts all the other girls seemed to be into. Blaine liked that. They had grown up together as well. They had similar families, similar values.

"Quinn," Blaine ran over to her before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. "Would you want to go out sometime?"

* * *

><p>Blaine paced nervously back and forth. He hadn't ever really gone out on a date before. There was a soft knock on his door and a second later his little sister popped her head in.<p>

"Blaine?" Elise had the same hazel-colored eyes as Blaine, dimples on her cheeks, and a halo of bouncy curls. She looked up at him and her eyes widened. "You look nice, Blaine." She was clutching her teddy bear in both arms.

"Thanks," Blaine crouched down to ruffle her hair. She squealed as her hair tickled her face. "Do you think Quinn will like it?" He gave a small spin, causing Elise to burst into another fit of giggles.

"Yes," she said when she finally stopped laughing. "I like Quinn. She's always so nice to me at church." She hopped up onto Blaine's bed and began jumping up and down.

"Careful now," he said. "Mom's going to get mad at _me_ if all my sheets are winkled." Elise made one final jump before handing in a heap of pillows.

"I love you, Blaine," she said, her eyes closing softly. "You are the best big brother, ever." Blaine felt his throat lock. There was something so innocent about her, so sweet. He sat down gently next to her and gently brushed the hair off her face.

"I love you to, Ellie."

* * *

><p>Blaine pulled up along the curb in front of Quinn's house. So much was still the same. There was the maple tree by the front window; the little birdhouse the two of them had painted was still hanging from it. Smiling to himself, he reached over and turned down the radio.<p>

"I had a really nice time," Quinn said, smiling at him. Blaine nodded, his heart starting to speed up. Was he supposed to kiss her?

"Yeah," his voice sounded a little rough. He cleared his throat. "I did, too."

"My mom was so happy to hear I was going out with you tonight," Quinn smiled to herself. "She adores you. How do you do that? You make people just…_melt_."

Blaine laughed softly and shook his head.

"Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

Quinn opened her door and stepped gracefully out of the car. Blaine did the same, reaching out for her hand as they walked up the path to her house.

"Such a gentleman," Quinn murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. They reached the porch. The sound of the television tricked through the window.

"Kiss me goodnight?" She asked hopefully.

Blaine leaned in slowly. He was close enough to feel her breath; close enough to see the light freckles on her nose. And then he was kissing her.

* * *

><p>"Blaine?" He spun around to see Kurt.<p>

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Kurt looked apologetic. "How are you?"

Blaine shrugged and looked down at the ground. It was funny, he thought. Before Kurt had come into his life, he was so energetic, talkative, full of life and chatter. But now he was quiet, reserved, and somewhat shy.

"I…I heard you and Quinn are together now." Blaine nodded and looked up at Kurt.

"Oh," there was something in Kurt's voice—disappointment, maybe. "Right, well…I just…" he began playing with the strap on his bag, trying to avoid Blaine's eyes. "I just thought we had something?" It came out sounding like a question.

Blaine swallowed and shook his head.

"I honestly don't know what I was thinking," he said, his voice a little angry. "I like _Quinn_. She's…" he was about to say _beautiful_, but that's not how boys described girls. At least not boys his age. "She's pretty hot."

"So that's it then?" Kurt could hear the anger in his own voice. Blaine flinched and he instantly felt bad. "Blaine," his voice was softer. "You shouldn't have to hide what you are."

"I'm not anything," Blaine's voice echoes across the empty hallway. "So just leave me alone."


	4. Chapter 4

About fifteen boys gathered on the field, laughing and talking, some of them dribbling soccer balls, a few of them trying to do their homework before practice started. Blaine sat down on the grass, letting his mind drift off.

He'd been with Quinn for nearly two weeks now. There were a lot of things he liked about being with her. He liked how his friends gave him jealous looks when she stopped by his school to bring him coffee before heading off to her school down the street. He liked how she held his hand and didn't push him farther than kissing. He liked that she was patient, sweet, kind, and gentle.

Blaine checked the time on his phone; it was nearly time to start. He stood up, stretching out his legs, getting ready to run. Running was one of the best parts of soccer—the acceleration, the rush, the speed, the feeling of leaving everything behind, shedding your worries.

They took off down the path, Blaine leading them. It was a nice sound, their rhythmic footsteps smacking the pavement. The rounded the corner, past the science buildings, the tennis courts, and on to the street opposite the parking lot.

There, standing in front of the school, stood Kurt. His school books were clutched in his arms, his hair blowing around his face. They hadn't spoken since that day in the hallway, but they saw each other every day in history. Last week, Kurt had told him that he didn't need help in French anymore, politely thanked him for all his help, and then had run over to a guy waiting for him at the door.

Blaine wondered if he and that boy were together. He sighed, tearing his gaze away from Kurt, and accelerated his pace to a near sprint.

* * *

><p>Friday night, Blaine found himself sitting in a dark theater, watching some love story Quinn had picked out. She looked lovely, wearing a piercing blue dress, black tights, and traces of makeup. He had kissed her softly when he picked her up, but she had been awfully quiet the whole drive to the theater.<p>

"I'm going to go get some more popcorn," he mumbled, grabbing the empty bag. "Do you need anything else?" She shook her head, her eyes still trained on the screen.

The lobby was fairly empty. Blaine looked around for a moment, enjoying the silence of it. That was one thing he didn't like about movie theaters—they were too loud. He made his way over to the small line besides the concessions stand, taking out his wallet to pay.

"Hey, Blaine," a familiar voice called out to him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Turning around, he came face-to-face with Kurt.

"Hi," he tried to sound natural. "What are you doing here?"

Kurt looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh, I'm just here with a friend. He wants to see some alien/apocalypse movie," he gave a small laugh. "What about you?"

"Oh, Quinn wanted to see some romantic comedy thing," Blaine shrugged.

The two of them let out awkward laughs, both of them feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. The person in front of Blaine finished paying, and Blaine quickly asked for his refill.

"I'll see you Monday," he said, giving Kurt a little wave.

"Wait," Kurt stepped out of line and took a few steps closer to him. "Listen, Blaine, you were right. Whatever you're going through isn't any of my business and I promise I'll stay out of it if that's what you want. But I think you're a really interesting, nice, fun person, and I would love to be your friend. Just your friend. Could we just forget about everything that happened?"

Blaine felt himself start to smile. Friends would be good. "Yeah, sure, friends," he looked up shyly. "I'll see you Monday."

* * *

><p>Monday morning, Blaine came downstairs to found Elise sitting at the table counting out her Lucky Charms. He smiled and ruffled her hair before sitting down next to her.<p>

"What are you doing, Ellie?" He asked, his voice softening the way it always did when he talked to her. He had been almost twelve when Elise had been born. He remembered visiting his mother in the hospital and getting to hold her. She had been extraordinarily tiny; so small and fragile. She was just so innocent, so unblemished, so flawless. She was too old to be unknowing, but too young to be naïve. Blaine loved her and knew that he wanted to protect her for as long as he possibly could.

"Counting my cereal," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Do you need any help?" He asked, watching her push yellow moons around on the table. She smiled and shook her head, showing the little dimple on her cheek.

"No, but thank you for offering."

Blaine planted a kiss on the top of her curls before grabbing his backpack and heading out the door.

* * *

><p>"Mind if I sit here?" Kurt asked nervously, pointing to the empty spot on the bench. Blaine looked up from his book, quickly shaking his head.<p>

"What are you reading?"

Blaine sighed, "_Brave New World,_" he rolled his eyes. "I have to read thirty more pages by next period."

Kurt made a face. "I hated that book."

The two of them sat in silence for a little bit, Blaine trying to concentrate on the story, Kurt trying not to concentrate on Blaine.

"Are you going to come watch the soccer game this Friday?"

Kurt looked up, a little surprised. "Um…I don't know."

"You should. I need someone to cheer me on."

"What about Quinn?" The words slipped out before Kurt could stop them.

"Oh, she's busy," Blaine shrugged. "So, will you? Please?"

"Um, sure."

"Great!" Blaine's voice became more animated as he began to describe how he envisioned the game panning out. "And afterwards there's going to be a party at my house. Well, only if we win. Which we will, of course," he said, grinning at Kurt. "You should come."

* * *

><p>They did win. Blaine's house was all lit up, the music was loud enough to be heard from a few blocks away, and both the Dalton boys and the Crawford girls were streaming in. His parents were okay with him throwing parties, mainly because they knew he would never do anything <em>too<em> stupid.

Blaine didn't care much for drinking, but he liked to dance. He didn't care with who, or to what music, but he just liked the feeling of moving. After nearly an hour, Blaine began to wonder if Kurt had come like he'd promised he would.

Making his way carefully through the crowd, he wondered throughout the house trying to find him. Across the hallway, he spotted him, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, holding a beer in one hand, his head tilted a little to the side.

"Kurt!" Blaine called, bounding over to him. "You came!"

Kurt smiled a lazy sort of smile and nodded. "Yeah," he said, giggling a little. "I promised I would, didn't I?"

Blaine could smell the alcohol on Kurt's breath, becoming more and more aware of how adorable Kurt looked with his cheeks flushed. He swallowed, hoping Kurt, or anyone else for that matter, didn't notice him blushing.

"Come dance with me," he murmured, taking Kurt's hands.

"Dance with you?" Kurt asked again. "I thought you said you didn't like me." He laughed again and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder.

"Uh, no," Blaine lowered his voice, hoping no one could hear them. "I do like you…as a friend. Remember?" Kurt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waste.

"Whatever," he said, sleepily. "Dancing with you sounds nice."

Blaine looked around the room. It was empty—everyone else was either in the living room. Sighing, Blaine slipped his arms around Kurt's neck and held him close, hoping that Kurt was too drunk to remember this the next day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Let me know what you think! I love to read your comments! ****Hope you enjoy :) **

* * *

><p>Saturday morning, Blaine woke up feeling slightly disoriented. He remembered bits and pieces from the night before; he remembered talking with a bunch of girls from Crawford, he remembered standing around while a bunch of his friends became increasingly intoxicated, and he also remembered, quite well, that he had danced with Kurt in the hallway when no one was watching.<p>

He remembered the feeling of Kurt's arms wrapped around his waist. It was a nice feeling, the way their bodies seemed to mold each others'. He remembered how Kurt rested his cheek on Blaine's shoulder; his lips pressing lightly on Blaine's neck. And he remembered the song ending and Kurt stumbling backwards a little bit, a smile on his face.

"I'm going to go get another drink," he said, his eyes a little unfocused. "You want to come with me?" He reached for Blaine's hand, but Blaine quickly took a step back.

"No thanks," he said. "I…I don't drink." Kurt shrugged it off and headed into the backyard by himself.

Blaine spent the next hour sitting in the hallway, trying desperately to figure out what was going on with himself. On the outside he seemed like a normal boy, but on the inside, something else was going on. He didn't _feel_ the way normal boys were supposed to feel. Something was different, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what.

He didn't see Kurt again for a while. When he finally was able to collect himself and venture out into the party again, Kurt seemed to have disappeared.

The party was winding down when Blaine spotted Kurt stumbling across the front lawn. He slowly made his way over, trying not to draw attention to himself.

"Kurt," he called, not really sure what he was doing. Kurt stopped and turned around slowly. He was shivering from the cold and Blaine fought the urge to run his hands up and down Kurt's arms.

"Are you cold?" He mentally kicked himself for asking such a dumb question. Kurt shrugged, his teeth chattering lightly. Blaine unzipped his jacket and held it out for him.

"Here," he said. "I don't want you to get sick."

Kurt looked at the jacket, and then at Blaine, and then back at the jacket. He seemed unsure if he should really take it.

"Are you sure?" He asked. "Won't you be cold?"

"I'm can get another. Are you walking home?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, it's not that far though."

"Well then you _have_ to take this." Blaine held it out and Kurt slipped his arms into the sleeves, pulling it tightly around him.

"It smells like you," Kurt said, tripping over the words a little bit. He let out a small laugh and buried his nose into the collar, taking in the sweet smell. "It's nice."

Blaine watched as Kurt walked down the street, turned the corner, and disappeared out of sight.

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt Hummel - Blaine Anderson<strong>

**(10:42 AM): **_Hey…I think I have your jacket? Well…I have someone's jacket. It kind of smells like you though, so I'm assuming it's yours? _

For some unexplainable reason, the idea that Kurt knew what he smelled like made Blaine's stomach squirm. He grinned into his pillow and tried to think of something to say back. After silently debating, typing, and deleting, he finally came up with something he was willing to send.

**Blaine Anderson - Kurt Hummel**

**(10:47 AM): **It's mine. I'm not surprised you don't remember, though. I didn't know you were such a drinker, Mr. Hummel.

**Kurt Hummel **-** Blaine Anderson**

**(10:48 AM): **Well you do throw quite the party, Mr. Anderson. Are any of the guys on the team single? The blonde one was kind of cute.

Blaine froze. He wasn't sure how to feel. Glad, maybe, that Kurt felt comfortable enough to talk to him about guys and crushes? Yes, that was most likely the most logical reaction. But there was something else, jealously, perhaps, that was lurking underneath his skin, yanking the breath out his lungs. He took a deep breath and tried to shrug it off.

**Blaine Anderson** -** Kurt Hummel **

**(10:55 AM): **Lots of blondes on the team; you'll have to be more specific.

**Kurt Hummel **-** Blaine Anderson**

**(10:57 AM): **Tall-ish, slender…a good dancer

**Blaine Anderson **-** Kurt Hummel**

**(11:01 AM): **I'll have to get back to you on that one.

**Kurt Hummel **-** Blaine Anderson**

**(11:03 AM): **PLEASE DO! I've been on Facebook for the past hour trying to figure out who the heck he is. He must have super-tight privacy settings; I can't even find him through a mutual friendship with you.

**Blaine Anderson **-** Kurt Hummel**

**(11:04 AM): **Ha-ha! Obsessed much?

**Kurt Hummel **-** Blaine Anderson**

**(11:06 AM): **You're right. I apologize. Let's get back to the topic on hand—your jacket. When shall I drop it off?

**Blaine Anderson **-** Kurt Hummel**

**(11:07 AM): **Anytime is fine. I've got nowhere to be today.

Blaine's phone buzzed again.

**Quinn 3 **-** Blaine Anderson**

**(11:10 AM): **Hey baby. I heard you won last night. Congrats are you free today?

Blaine sighed and stared at the phone a moment longer before turning it off, rolling over, and falling back to sleep.

* * *

><p>He slept dreamlessly until a light knock on his door woke him a few hours later. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he squinted to see Elise scrambling up on his bed, pulling the covers off of him, her soft curls framing her face like a little halo.<p>

"Blaine," she said the word like the note of a song. "Someone's here to visit you. He said he can come back later if you are busy, but I told him that I'd come wake you up. He is downstairs."

Blaine groaned and rolled back onto his stomach. Elise let out an exasperated sigh, using both hands to try to roll him onto his back.

"Wake up, _now_, Blaine," she said sternly. "You have a visitor."

Blaine couldn't help but smile into his pillow. Letting out a big sigh, he pushed himself up off the bed and smoothed out his shirt. Snatching Elise off the bed, he carried her down the stairs, her squeals echoing off the high ceiling.

Kurt was waiting for him in the kitchen, holding Blaine jacket which was now neatly folded into a rectangle. Blaine set Elise down on the countertop and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling oddly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," he said, gesturing to his pajamas. "I fell asleep texting you and…" his voice trailed off a little bit. Kurt smiled and shrugged.

"Don't worry. You pull of PJs quite well, actually."

Elise sucked her thumb noisily, her foot tapping steadily on the side of the cabinets.

"Do you want to go up to my room?" Blaine offered, half hoping Kurt would say yes and half hoping he wouldn't.

Kurt nodded, shifting the jacket to the other arm. Elise hopped off the counter and ran excitedly around Blaine.

"Can I come play with you guys?" She asked eagerly.

"Not now, Ellie. You'd be bored; Kurt and I are going to talk about high school stuff." Elise made a huffing sound before hugging Blaine's leg and running off into the living room.

"She seems sweet," Kurt said. "Are you guys close?"

"Very," Blaine led the way up to his room. "She's…perfect, really."

He opened the door and the two of them went inside. Kurt stood in the doorway for a moment, his eyes roaming across the room. He smiled to himself when he saw the various pictures of Blaine throughout elementary and middle school lined up on the wall. He took in the particular shade of blue that Blaine seemed to have an affinity for; surmised from the fact that the bedspreads and curtains were that color. He gazed upon the messy corner of the room, hidden away from view. It was covered in dirty soccer clothes and some loose socks.

Blaine sat down awkwardly on the bed and motioned for Kurt to join him. They sat in silence for a moment longer before Blaine broke the silence.

"This is kind of a personal question…" he looked up shyly through his dark lashes, his eyes curious and questioning. Kurt gave him an encouraging smile. "How did you know you were…you know," he tilted his head a little bit, biting his lip. "How did you know you were gay?"

Kurt smiled and shrugged, looking down at his lap. "Middle school, I guess. All the boys in my class started to get interested in girls, but for some strange reason, I wasn't. I started to notice things, like the way a guy would smile, or the way he'd tilt his head in class. Anyways, that sort of transformed into me noticing other things about boys—lips, eyes, necks, hips, freckles." He looked up and gave Blaine a small smile.

"Boys are just so beautiful. You're so beautiful."

Blaine flinched.

"I mean it. And I think you should know it. You're really, really something, Blaine Anderson. You're my friend. And you know you can talk to me about anything, okay? "

Blaine nodded, a sense of numbness slowly taking over. Inside, there was something working its way up his throat, crawling and scratching. Kurt's gaze was trained on him, making the room feel even tighter.

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" Kurt's voice was so soft and gentle. Blaine just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry; cry because he didn't understand the world, or why life seemed to be tipping him upside-down.

He swallowed and opened his mouth, but the words seemed to get caught on the tip of his tongue and he shook his head, his face crumpling and the tears falling. He felt them, wet and warm against the side of his cheek. He covered his face with his hands as he felt his shoulders begin to shake.

After a moment, he felt Kurt's arms wrap around him, Kurt's chin resting on his shoulder, his hands stroking Blaine's back. The two of them stayed like that for the next hour, trying to figure out the world piece by piece.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey - so it's a short one, but I'll try to have the next one out soon! :) Thank you for the comments on the last one; comments make me oh-so-happy! Hope you enjoy. **

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><p>"Why don't you tell me what's going on?" Kurt spoke softly, running his fingers gently through Blaine's hair. "We never really talked about what happened in the car and I'm worried about you."<p>

Blaine shook his head and wiped his eyes on Kurt's shirt.

"I don't think I can talk about it. There's just so much and…and I don't know where to start. _I _don't even know what's going on."

"Would you mind if I asked you some questions?" Kurt felt Blaine shudder a little bit, his shoulders shaking and relaxing as Kurt rubbed soft circles onto his back.

"What kind of questions?"

"Well…what does it feel like when you kiss Quinn?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "It feels…nice. I don't really know. It's not like we are constantly making out or anything; we just kiss goodbye after dates and stuff."

Kurt nodded, trying to think of a way to phrase the next question that wouldn't cause any eruptions.

"What did it feel like when you kissed me?"

Blaine's face clouded over and he shook his head. "We didn't…we didn't kiss." His face was set, stubborn, stony. "Whatever it was, it was any accident anyways."

"I sometimes see you looking at me in history." Blaine pulled away from Kurt, hastily wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "It's okay, Blaine. It's okay to be curious."

They sat there for a moment, both of them staring straight ahead at the wall in front of them. Kurt felt Blaine shift a little bit, watching him out of the corner of his eye. There was something going on that Kurt wanted desperately to make better. He couldn't figure out why though, why he felt such a strong desire to help Blaine. Maybe he was because he couldn't stand to see someone so beautiful look so broken.

Blaine's heart was beating overtime. The words were trying to break free, escape, from inside his chest where they'd been held captive for so long. _Don't be a coward_, he thought. But he couldn't; it was so wrong. It was going against everything he'd ever believed, everything he had ever known or been told_. Just say it_, he thought. _Say it now. _

"Show me," the words fell out, tumbling faster and faster, one after another. Kurt turned to look at him, his pretty blue eyes burning holes in Blaine's skin. It was too late to turn back now; he was in too far. "Show me how it feels to kiss a boy."

* * *

><p>Kurt shook his head, trying to process what Blaine had said.<p>

"Are…are you sure?" He was tripping over his words now, unsure of what to say. "What about Quinn?"

Blaine thought for a moment.

"I don't think I like her the way I'm supposed to," he said quietly.

"But if we kissed, wouldn't you be cheating on her?"

"I guess," Blaine stared at his lap. "Never mind; it was a bad idea. I'm sorry." He was retracting, retreating, slowly folding back into himself.

"No, wait, that's not what I…it's not that I didn't want…" Kurt was scrambling, trying to save the little bit of progress they had just made. He took a deep breath and grabbed Blaine's hands in his own, gently rubbing this thumb in small patterns across the skin.

"I have an idea. Why don't you and Quinn work things out and then Friday night my parents are going to be out of town. You can come over, I'll make you dinner, we'll watch some movies, and if you still want to, I'll kiss you."

* * *

><p>Blaine couldn't fall asleep that night. Part of him was in shock. He couldn't believe he'd actually asked Kurt to kiss him. He wasn't even sure he wanted to kiss Kurt. There was just something about him—about Kurt—that made him want to turn around and run. Kurt scared him more than anyone, or anything, ever had.<p>

Up until Kurt had come along, Blaine hadn't questioned anything. He knew who he was: captain of the soccer team, straight-A student, never cut class, always polite to his parents, a good big brother, never missed church, popular with girls. But then Kurt walked in, with his voice like music and eyes like cold water, and everything seemed to change.

Blaine sighed and rolled into his side, tucking his hands under his cheek. He had prayed that night, right before getting into bed. He'd asked for the same thing he'd been asking for weeks now—to understand himself, and the world, and all the questions running through his head. If there was a God, why did he seem to be playing jokes on him? Blaine reached for his phone next to his bed, wondering if Kurt was still awake.

**Blaine Anderson — Kurt Hummel **

**(10:47 PM): **_Hey, what are you doing? _

**Kurt Hummel — Blaine Anderson**

**(10:51 PM): **_Thinking about you, actually. How are you holding up?_

Blaine felt himself smile the tinniest of smiles. His fingers hovered over the keypad, trying to decide what to say. In all honesty, things were not so great. Things were a mess; everything, all of it. But there was some fear, some phobia, inside. He was afraid of letting other people see that messier side of him. Even with his parents, he tried to bottle up any and all imperfections, stow them away, out of sight out of mind.

But with Kurt it was different. He had _cried_ in front of Kurt for one thing. Blaine certainly did not feel safe around Kurt, but there _was_ something about him that made him feel like he could be honest.

**Blaine Anderson — Kurt Hummel **

**(10:55 PM): **_I've been better. _

Blaine took a deep breath.

_ Kurt…I'm scared. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for the comments on the last one! ****I hope you enjoy this one...please comment; it makes me happy. :) Also, any suggestions or whatnot-I would love to hear them! **

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><p>There was something so classically romantic about the whole thing—after school, sitting on the bleachers, Quinn's hair blowing in the wind. Blaine had been trying to avoid her, telling her that he had homework, or soccer practice, or that he'd had to babysit his little sister. The reason being that he couldn't do it; he couldn't break up with her.<p>

It was Thursday now, a mere twenty-four hours before he was supposed to go to Kurt's house. He looked over at Quinn, her eyes so bright and her smile so innocent. This wasn't her fault; it wasn't her fault that he was such a mess.

She looked just as nervous as he felt, absentmindedly playing with the collar on her dress. She should be angry, or upset, or _something_, but she was too nice for that. She was too good for Blaine. Eventually, she looked up and met his eyes.

"So my friend is having a party tomorrow night. Would you like to come with me? It'll be fun," she gave him a small, almost pleading sort of smile. "I feel like I never get to see you anymore," she said softly, looking back at her lap.

"Right, well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Blaine took a deep breath. "Um, things have just been really…hectic. You know, with school and soccer and everything. Anyways, I just think that maybe it would be better if we, um, just went back to being friends."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Blaine knew he'd hurt her; he could see it on her face. She didn't cry, though; but there was something said about the way she looked at him.

"Okay," she said, finally, standing up and reaching for her bag. "It's what you want?"

Blaine nodded, feeling somewhat disconnected from himself.

"Okay," she said, again. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking down the bleachers; the sound of her steps radiating off the metal.

* * *

><p>Blaine pulled into the driveway and turned off his car. He sat there for a moment, trying to remember how this had all started. Recently, it felt as if life was flying past him, one big blur of noise and confusion.<p>

It was funny, now that he thought about it, how he actually knew so little about Kurt. He had made a lot of assumptions, but when he stopped to think about it, there was a lot he had never even bothered to ask. Sighing, Blaine got out of the car and walked slowly up to the house, trying to think of the easiest way to avoid any questions his mother might throw at him about Quinn.

* * *

><p>Elise was sitting at the kitchen table coloring a picture. She had her box of sixty-four Crayola crayons in front of her, one hand underneath her chin, her lower lip sticking out a little bit as she concentrated on drawing a perfect circle. Blaine smiled as he sat down next to her, hoping her aimless chatter would distract him from the constant stream of worry running through his head.<p>

"Hi, Blaine," she said, her words a little muffled from the hand pressed against the side of her mouth. "I'm making a drawing for you."

Blaine tilted his head a little bit to get a better look.

"See? That's you, and Mommy, and Daddy, and me," she said, pointing to the people in the picture. "When you and Quinn get married I will add her to the picture too, because then she'll be my sister."

Blaine froze, trying to think of the best way to explain things to Elise. "Uh, Ellie, I'm not sure Quinn is going to be coming around much anymore."

Blaine hadn't even thought about this whole part. Elise loved Quinn. At church, they would always sit together; Quinn helping her read the more difficult words in the hymn book and teaching her little ways to remember things for bible study. For the past few weeks, Quinn would come over and spend time making cookies or playing dress up with her, telling her about high school, and driving, and dating boys. Blaine felt genuinely guilty for taking Quinn away from Elise.

"Why not?" Elise reached for a blue crayon. "Are you guys fighting?"

Blaine played with the sleeves of his shirt, "Yeah, sort of. I'm really sorry, Ellie."

To his surprise, she looked up at him with her wide eyes and before he knew what was happening, she had crawled onto the table and wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled into her curls, taking in her particular smell of soap and the softness of her skin.

"I love you, Blaine," she said.

He felt his throat constrict, but this time in a good way. A little bit of the wariness that had built up over the past few weeks melted away. Not all of it, not even the majority of it, but a little bit.

"I love you too, Ellie."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Blaine came downstairs feeling extremely nervous about the day in front of him. He'd thought about calling Kurt and telling him that he had changed his mind. But the thing was that he <em>hadn't<em>. He was still curious, if not more so now that he had been before. He still wanted to know what it would feel like. And at this point, he was too far in; no going back.

His mother was making breakfast when he stumbled into the kitchen. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and he squirmed away, making her smile and reach out to ruffle his hair.

"What?" She asked teasingly. "Getting too old to give Mommy a kiss?"

He shrugged and sat down at the table. She gave him a concerned look and set a plate of eggs and bacon down next to him.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

Blaine grabbed his fork and began eating, trying to avoid her question. "Nothing; I've got a test in math…" he tried to pass that as his explanation.

"Is that all? You seem worried," she sat down next to him. Blaine had always been such a good kid; almost too good. He never talked back, he never caused any trouble at school, he never swore or spilled juice on the tablecloth.

She was proud of him, for sure, but she always worried that there might be something he was keeping to himself. She worried that maybe he didn't know how proud she was of him; she worried he worked too hard and was too critical and judgmental on himself.

Blaine shrugged again and sighed, putting down his fork. "Quinn and I broke up," he said, looking away. "But it's not a big deal."

His mother reached out and squeezed his hand which was lying on the table. He tried to smile but didn't quite manage it.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she brushed some of the hair out of his eyes. "Don't worry though, it's her loss anyways."

Blaine didn't bother telling her that he had been the one to end it. He watched as she stood up and walked back over to the counter.

"Tell me what you want for dinner tonight. I can make anything you'd like. We'll have a family night; maybe watch a movie or something?"

Blaine looked down at his lap. "Actually," he said. "I was going to go to a friend's house tonight if that's okay. He, uh...we were just going to have a sleepover or something; you know, video games and junk food and that sort of stuff. He said it would, um, make me feel better." He was rambling, trying to make himself sound natural.

His mother nodded enthusiastically, smiling. "Of course that's alright. I think it will be good for you to have a night off, take a break from all the work you're doing. I've said it a thousand times, but you work _so_ hard, Blaine." She stopped for a moment to take a long look at him. "Your father and I are both very proud of you."

* * *

><p>School was normal. Blaine liked that. It was normal, and predictable, and safe. Today though, he was a little distracted. Thanks to Facebook, the entire school knew he had broken up with Quinn, and for some strange reason, people seemed to think that it was the most important and pressing issue.<p>

"Dude," Wes came up to him as he was walking into school. "What happened with you and Quinn? You guys were perfect for each other."

"Thanks, Wes," Blaine could hear how tired he sounded. "And I don't know why, we just did."

By the time he made it to history, he was sick of people asking him about Quinn. When the teacher started the lecture, it was like heaven. Everybody shut up, faced forward, and took notes. No one would bother him for the next fifty-five minutes.

When the bell rang, Blaine purposely took his time putting his stuff back into his backpack. He could hear the rest of the class filing out; the sound of their footsteps and laughter echoing off the ceilings. After a moment, the room fell silent and he turned around, prepared to head to his next class, only to come face-to-face with Kurt.

"Hi," Kurt said, adjusting the books in his arms. "Um, I wanted to ask you what time you'd like to come over tonight. Assuming you still want to, of course. It's perfectly fine if you—"

"No, I want to come," Blaine said, quickly. "Um, I'm free after soccer practice. I can be there around 6:00."

Kurt smiled and Blaine couldn't help but notice how…pretty he looked, his skin so pale and delicate. Blaine was suddenly aware how completely alone the two of them were; even the teacher had left. Kurt seemed to realize it too and his cheeks instantly flushed a pretty shade of pink.

"I should get going," he stammered. "Trigonometry," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you at six." He headed for the door before Blaine could reply. A second later, however, he popped his head back in.

"Do you like to cook?" He asked. Blaine nodded, not trusting himself to talk right now. Most likely, words would have eluded him.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Blaine was in the locker room, gym bag in hand, sweaty and out of breath from running, that he realized what he was about to do. All of a sudden, panic hit him full force and he sank to the ground, his heart pounding, sending impulses along the tips of his fingers. A locker slams shut and makes him jump; a moment later, the last of the soccer team troops out, leaving Blaine completely alone.<p>

Nerves get the best of him and he finds himself throwing up the electric blue Gatorade he drank before practice. His skin was hot and clammy, his hands shaking from the nerves and fright building up in his stomach. His throat burned from the acidity that had just ripped through it; his eyes watering and his chest heaving.

He turned on the tap and splashed some of the cold water onto his face, trying to calm himself down. The clock on the wall said he was 5:47. Kurt would be expecting him soon. Blaine took a deep breath and grabbed his stuff. _I can always just tell Kurt I don't want to_, he told himself.

* * *

><p>When he pulled up to Kurt's house, he immediately jumped out of the car and walked up to the front door before he could talk himself out of it. He knocked because his hand was shaking too much to pinpoint the doorbell. He hears the sound echo through the house; and a moment later, Kurt opened the door, looking eager and excited.<p>

"Come in," he stepped aside to let Blaine pass through. "I was just getting the stuff ready; we're making pizza!" He grins and pulls Blaine into the kitchen. "I wasn't sure what kind you liked, so I got a smorgasbord of toppings to choose from."

Blaine felt himself grin. "Smorgasbord?"

Kurt blushed. "Please don't think I'm a nerd."

They both laughed, sounding a little forced, but it was enough to break the surface layer of awkwardness.

An hour later, Kurt proclaimed the pizza done, and they snuggled down on the couch with their food. Blaine felt himself tense up as Kurt's foot bumped his own, sending a combination of nerves and excitement shoot up through his system.

"Tell me more about yourself," Kurt said through a mouthful of pizza. "I know you have a sister, and I know you play soccer…what else?"

Blaine broke off a piece of the crust and watched as the steam curled and twisted into the air. "Well," he said. "I'm addicted to Nutella, I hum Twinkle-Twinkle every time I brush my teeth, and…" he thought for a moment. "I secretly want one of those animal hats, but my problem is I can't choose which one to buy."

Kurt looked at him for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Sorry," he said, gasping for breath. "I don't mean to laugh, it's just that is so…" he was cut off again by another round of laughter. "_Adorable_," he finished, taking in a big breath.

Blaine blushed; and tied to suppress the nervous feeling he had growing. Picking at the pepperoni on his pizza, Blaine turned his eyes to Kurt.

"It's your turn. You have to tell me something embarrassing about you."

"But that wasn't _embarrassing_," Kurt argued. "It was cute."

"Fine then, tell me something cute about you."

Kurt's cheeks tinted that pretty pink again. "Um…when I floss, I use those dinosaur flossers that are multicolored and make it easier to reach the teeth in the way back of your mouth."

Slowly, through embarrassing stories and random facts, the two of them began to feel more comfortable with each other. Blaine let himself laugh and smile at Kurt without over analyzing it. He let himself stare as Kurt's mouth moved quickly, forming strings of words that sounded like a lullaby.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until they stopped and looked around that they realized how dark it had become outside. A quick glance up at the clock tells them that they've spent a good three hours talking. Kurt sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. When he turned back to Blaine, there was a different look on his face.<p>

"So," he said, "Do you still want to?"

Blaine felt like he was going to be sick again. His lips were dry, his throat was dry, his head was spinning. But it seemed as if his body had overpowered his mind; moving in ways that he didn't tell it to.

He felt himself nod. He sat there, motionless, as Kurt slowly leaned forward. And then he felt it, soft and warm, comforting and whole. The kiss was short, but it lingered. And when Kurt pulled away, Blaine could still feel where his lips had been.

Blaine opened his eyes; only realizing then that he had closed them. They sat opposite each other, neither of them talking. Blaine's mind was screaming at him the lines of the book he had read over and over, and thousand times burned into his memory.

But it didn't seem to matter; at least not right then. All Blaine knew was that he'd never felt so complete before. He'd never felt so wanted.

"Again," he felt himself whisper.

And then Kurt's hands were on him; pulling him closer, lips pressing against the side of Blaine's mouth, working small kisses along his jawline. Blaine felt himself sigh, his whole body relaxing into Kurt's arms.

"More," he begged, tugging at Kurt's shirt, pressing his mouth down hard on Kurt's. After a moment of struggling, Kurt pulled away, breathless.

"Wait," he said. "We should probably talk about this first."

Blaine groaned and leaned forward, trying to persuade another kiss out of Kurt.

"Please, Kurt, _please_," he begged.

"Once we talk," Kurt promised.

* * *

><p><strong>And a question for you guys-more Quinn or no? I have a couple ideas for how it could go, but I'd love to hear your input! <strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**It's been forever since I've updated, and this one is kind of short, but I'm hoping once things settle down I will be able to write more! So sorry for the lack of updates! **  
><strong>Hope you enjoy!<br>**

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><p>Kurt tried to prioritize this list of questions running through his head, but it seemed as if his mind was running on two separate tracks. He knew he needed to talk this through with Blaine, yet his mind had gone all fuzzy. Blaine's face was just centimeters from his own, so close that it made it nearly irresistible to stop, even just for a moment.<p>

"I don't want to take advantage of you," Kurt backed away a little further, trying to untangle his thoughts from his racing heart. "And we should probably work out what we _are_."

Blaine sat back as well, resting his head on one of the pillows behind him. "What do you mean?"

"You know…like, am I your boyfriend?"

Blaine's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, his heart stopped beating. The realization of what he'd done seemed to hit him full force. His stomach turned over and he felt himself start to panic.

"What did I just do?" He hugged his legs to his chest and buried his face in between his arms. "Kurt, I can't…" he tried to breath but he couldn't. "I can't…"

"It's okay," Kurt leaned forward to touch him. "That's why we're going to talk about it," he took Blaine's hands in his own and tried to unclench them, running his thumb in sleepy circles across Blaine's wrists.

* * *

><p>The two of them sat there for another hour. It was a progression of one step forward, two steps back; each time Blaine seemed to calm down, something would go off in his head—words he had heard from his parents, something he had read, reminders that what he was doing was <em>wrong<em>. Kurt was patient with him, stroking his hair and wiping away his tears until there was nothing left to cry.

"I'd like to be your boyfriend," Kurt said softly. "But I know you might not be ready for that right now, so if you aren't, or if you don't want to, I totally understand."

"Kurt…my parents..." Blaine tried to think of a way to explain this, but it was too big, too heavy, to encompass with one word. "They wouldn't be okay with this."

"Have you tried to talk to them? I know that sometimes people can change for those that they love. I know my dad wasn't thrilled to find out I was gay; I mean, he had always wanted someone would play football and fix cars with him. But he loves me and he's willing to accept me—"

"No," Blaine shook his head, starting to feel angry. "Why aren't you getting this? My parents aren't like yours Kurt. They love me now, but it's all conditional. The minute I told them it would all go away. They can't love someone like…someone like that. It's wrong in their eyes...it's wrong in _my_ eyes, Kurt."

"How can you say that?" Kurt reached out to touch him again. "I know you liked it just as much as I did. How can you say it's wrong?"

"Because it is," Blaine felt dizzy. He was sick of trying to explain things. He just wanted Kurt to understand. "It's wrong to have feelings for you, Kurt."

"What's wrong with it?" He snapped, surprised at how angry he sounded.

Blaine just sat there.

"I…I don't know," he said finally.

* * *

><p>Kurt's room wasn't like any boy's room Blaine had ever seen. It was painted an elegant grey color, the tables, chairs, and bed all a dark, rich black. The bedspread and pillows were ivory; a long mirror hung on one end of the room, covered in magazine clippings and Polaroid pictures.<p>

Blaine felt nervous being in Kurt's room. Something about it was so…intimate. It was seeing a whole different side of Kurt, like opening a box of secrets. Kurt waved his hand across the room, gesturing for Blaine to sit down.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll go grab so extra blankets and stuff."

He disappeared for a moment, leaving Blaine alone. Cautiously, he sat down on the bed. It was soft, the blankets rising around Blaine and molding his body. They smelled like Kurt. He closed his eyes and turned his cheek flat against the pillow, breathing in the sweet, airy smell. Something felt funny, hard and stiff. Blaine sat up, puzzled, and slowly reached under the pillow. His hand came in contact with something—a journal. Kurt's journal.

Blaine sat there for a moment. He wanted to open it, to peek at it, to flip through it and search for his name. But he couldn't. He could just imagine how he would feel if someone did that to him. There was no way—

Kurt stepped back into the room, blankets and pillows spilling out of his arms. His eyes landed on Blaine, who immediately dropped the journal onto the bed.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I swear I didn't—" he stammered, trying to apologize before Kurt got angry.

Kurt just stood there for a moment, his eyes flickering from the journal to Blaine and then back again. Slowly, carefully, he set the blankets down and made his way over to where Blaine was sitting. Blaine could feel his cheeks flush.

"I didn't read anything, I promise. I could feel it under the pillow and I wanted to see what it was so I—"

Kurt picked it up and turned it around in his hands before holding it out to Blaine.

"No," he said, his voice soft and almost scared. "I'm glad you found it. There is some stuff in here that maybe you should read. If you want to, of course," he said quickly.

Blaine felt himself reach out, his fingers wrapping around the spine of the book.

"Maybe…maybe when you get home?" It came out sounding like a question.

Blaine nodded and held the journal close to his chest, feeling his heartbeat reverberate against it.

"I want you to know," Kurt whispered, biting his lip a little. "That I'm here for you, okay? It was hard for me too, and one of the hardest parts was that I felt like there was no one who understood what I was going through. I want you to know that while I may not understand exactly what you're going through, I do understand how hard it is and how brave you are."

Blaine felt his eyes pinch the way they did before he would start crying. God, that's probably all Kurt thought he did. He hastily wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

"Whatever we are, whatever we end up becoming, I hope you know that I care about you."

Blaine nodded, not trusting himself to speak. After a moment he cleared his throat.

"What's inside the journal?"

Kurt smiled a sad sort of smile and reached out for Blaine's hand.

"My story. The good and the bad, the nice and the ugly. Maybe it will bring you some courage."


End file.
